You've Always Counted
by Sherlolly17
Summary: '"You wrong you know, you do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you..." My idea of what could have happened when Sherlock asked Molly for help in 'The Reichenbach Fall' and their time together afterwards. A Sherlolly fanfic with a few other characters along the way, enjoy! Rated M for the first few chapters, after it will vary, reviews are welcome and appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Molly let out a small sigh as she switched off the light in the lab at Bart's as she thought about what had happened with Sherlock earlier that day; his face when she told him that she knew that she didn't count to him gave her a tiny sliver of hope as he looked almost appalled when she had said so. However, she knew that she was being silly. What would the brilliant, intelligent and absolutely beautiful Sherlock Holmes want with her: a boring pathologist who spent most of her time around the dead; that's why she had wanted to become a pathologist after all, she wasn't good with people, and the deceased didn't expect anything of her.

Deep in thought she had almost had a heart attack when she heard that deep, sexy baritone voice that she loved so much: "You're wrong you know; you do count. You've always counted and I've always trusted you… but you were right, I'm not ok." Molly didn't know what to say, unsure of whether he was being genuine, or if he was just manipulating her… but then she realized how desperate he sounded.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Molly, I think I'm going to die."

At that moment Molly replied with the question that she had been asking Sherlock since the day that they had met. Only this time it was without exasperation as it sometimes was, without the dreading feeling that came with asking him anything as he would usually reply to any question that she asked with a snide remark about her appearance or things that she was doing wrong. It was asked with a pure longing to help the man who she had loved for what felt like forever; the man who could never love her back: "What do you need?"

Sherlock admired Molly in a way that she would never know, not because he didn't want to tell her how much she meant to him, he just didn't know how.

"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still help me?"

"What do you need?"

Sherlock took two steps closer to Molly.

"You."

This word, this tiny three letter word was one that Molly had wanted to hear for a very long time. She felt a surge of confidence rage through her as she swiftly moved toward Sherlock, placed her hands on his cool, sharp cheeks and pressed her lips against his. At first Sherlock stood there frozen, unsure of what to do, eventually his primal instincts took over and his mouth started to move against hers. Unfortunately, just as he began to do so alarm bells went off inside Molly's head as she realized what she was doing and with who. She recoiled from the kiss abruptly and Sherlock stood there, dumbfounded. He squinted his eyes, opened his mouth, and then closed it just as quickly. Molly, embarrassed at her actions stammered as she didn't know quite what to do: "Uhhh um… I'm sorry I don't know what… I didn't mean to…"

She felt her cheeks burning as he backed away slowly and turned around, trying to walk away with at least some of her dignity in tact when she felt cool, slender fingers on her shoulders, drawing her back in. Sherlock turned her around and traced the palms of his hands down the side of her body until he reached her waist which was where he stopped. He looked into her eyes which were dilated as expected and allowed himself to smirk as Molly stole a glance at his lips. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers once again, hers like melted chocolate as he drowned in their deliciousness. Passion grew in their kisses as Molly moaned into his mouth, music to his ears as he slowly pushed her back against the wall of the lab.


	2. Chapter 2

The situation began to heat up as Molly started to unbutton Sherlock's shirt, his Belstaff and suit jacket already lying on the floor. Sherlock picked Molly up and cupped her bum as she absent-mindedly wrapped her legs around his waist. Sherlock used the wall to keep her at eye level as he kissed the life out of her, their tongues both competing for dominance. He had taken off Molly's top half of clothes and she was left with only her white bra dotted with tiny cherries. He let himself smile when he saw it, it was so Molly.

Sherlock almost tore the bra from her body, not bothering with the clasp. He reached down and took one of her pink nipples in his mouth, her moans as did so a symphony to his ears, he nipped at her skin gently just so that he could hear more. As Sherlock was focused on her breasts Molly raked her fingers through his unruly curls (she had always wanted to do that) and smiled as she pressed her lips against his once more. She reached her hands down to his tight trousers and pulled them down half way, only his boxers covering the rest of him. Sherlock flinched slightly as he wasn't used to this amount of physical contact… ever. It was just, sort of, happening. Molly felt his erection against her center felt enormously proud that she was the cause of this. Sherlock had noticed this of course and smirked, knowing what Molly was thinking. He took two fingers down to her knickers and rubbed her clit through the fabric. She moaned in pleasure and rubbed his cock in return. She released his manhood, stroking him up and down, his moans being all that she could hear as Sherlock took off her underwear at the same time.

Just as Sherlock had positioned himself to her entrance they both heard a cough and a very familiar, very annoying voice came to his ears: "Brother dear, if you would refrain from your coital activities until after we have dealt with everything it would be most welcome."

Sherlock froze then rolled his eyes, not because he was annoyed at Mycroft (he always was anyway) but because he was right: it was the wrong place and time for this and he had let sentiment get in the way of what or moreover who was his main priority at that time. He rested his head against Molly's, his breathing heavy, his eyes full of lust. His eyes were usually a mix of blue and green although Molly could never pinpoint the exact colour of Sherlock's eyes, it always seemed to change. In that moment however they were almost black, dilated so that only a rim of colour remained around his pupil. She had almost forgotten that they had company as she was lost in his eyes, until Sherlock let out a frustrated sigh and gently put her down.

 **I already have 4 follows for this and I only posted it last night, this is also my fist fan fic ever so thank you so much! I had pre-written this chapter so that's why it's up so soon, but school is very busy at the moment and I have exams for the next two weeks so from now on it will probably be 1-2 chapters a week. Thank you for following and please leave reviews it is much appreciated! X**


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Molly was put down she was disappointed and very, very frustrated. These feelings soon turned into embarrassment however, as she remembered that they had company and that she was currently half naked! Sherlock noticed this of course and, after pulling his trousers up quickly picked up his coat from the floor and used it as a curtain so that Molly could get dressed without Mycroft seeing her. Mycroft had made out that he was no interested in finding a 'goldfish' as he so put it, but Sherlock had noticed the way he had looked at Molly when he walked in – he wasn't as good as hiding his feelings as he thought he was. She muttered a 'thank you' as she began to cover herself up, her face flushed bright red.

The awkward silence was suddenly filled with Mycroft's voice, making Molly jump: 'Thank you, now come on, hurry up. We have a lot of work to do…'

Every single part of the plan was carefully and rigorously thought out to perfection: faking his death was easier than Sherlock had thought. He was dreading telling Molly as he knew that he she would find it hard to get her head around as she was very sensitive, but he knew that she would help him and try to be strong for him as she always had done. That's why Sherlock loved her. He shook his head as Molly entered it yet again, he needed to focus and she was making it very difficult!

Throughout his whole encounter with Moriarty, as he tried to pretend that he was beaten (which he found very hard), even as he was falling to his so called 'death', all he could think about was Molly and her lips against his – he was doing this for her, as well as to protect John, Mrs Hudson and Graham… Geoff?... Lestrade. His thoughts of her changed quite dramatically however as he heard John's voice when he was on the ground, covered in fake blood: '… please, he's my friend.' Dealing with this was going to be much harder than he had thought; one because he wanted to jump up and do a victory dance to show off that he had beaten Moriarty, two because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, it killed him inside to see John so broken.

Sherlock returned to Molly's flat, deciding to stay with her for a few weeks before he went to destroy Moriarty's network. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her as he didn't know how long he would be away for. He hadn't told Molly this yet however. He wanted to wait for the right time, and he knew that Molly was still a bit shocked at what she had helped him do. Nevertheless, she had been brilliant. She had had to fake Sherlock's death certificate and make a fake autopsy form which he knew must have been hard for her.

As he flopped down on Molly's cream sofa, scattered with an unnecessary amount of cushions, he thought back to John, trying to forget about the look on his face when he had found out that Sherlock was 'dead'. Molly peered round from her bedroom door after getting changed, and noticed Sherlock's sudden change in expression, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes sad – he always looked said when he thought that no one could see – she always did though.

She was about to go and sit with him, try and comfort him but she realised that he may need some time to think, so instead she decided to make them something to eat as she realised that he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours. Sherlock heard Molly moving around in the kitchen, so he stood up and watched her as she boiled some pasta and made some sauce. She was wearing a strappy top and shorts that only just covered her up enough. Even though it was cold outside, it was very warm in her flat and he was finding it very hard to keep his eyes away from her bum. Sherlock walked towards her as she was waiting for the pasta to cook, her back facing him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and started kissing and nuzzling at her neck. At first Molly tensed up, not used to Sherlock being so physical with her or even _wanting_ to be. She soon embraced his touch because she knew that he would rarely be like this. She leaned back into him, allowing him better access to her neck. He mumbled into it as he continued with his ministrations:

"Shall we continue from where we left off before Mycroft so rudely interrupted?"

"Hmmmm…" Molly sighed as she was just enjoying the feel of him.

Sherlock smirked at this and just as he was about to turn her around and take her to the bedroom the water from the pasta started to overflow with foam and Molly had to let go of Sherlock to prevent it from making a mess on her cooker. He let out a frustrated huff and tried to bring her closer to him again. She moved out of the way quickly because she knew that once he had her, she would be condemned to his gorgeousness and there would be no going back.

"No Sherlock, not until you've eaten something, you haven't eaten anything for a whole day and neither have I; it's not very healthy."

He rolled his eyes and sighed: "The body is just merely transport for the mind, I eat enough to function and that's all I need."

"Well then I guess if you only see it as 'transport' you won't feel the desire to take me to bed will you?" Molly had to prevent herself from smiling – she knew that she and beaten him and he knew it too.

"… fine." Sherlock pouted, he knew that there was no use. Damn this woman and her shorts!

Molly laughed as she saw the frustration in his face and started serving up his food. They ate in comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard was Sherlock wolfing down his food, wanted to finish so that he could finally have Molly. Molly on the other hand took her time, eating slower than she usually would. She knew that Sherlock was impatient and enjoyed being able to tease him this way.

She finally finished her meal and as soon as she had put her plate down Sherlock pounced on her. Wanting to tease him a bit more (even though it took all the self-control that she had) Molly put her hand in front of his face:

"Nope we have to wait for our food to digest."

Sherlock just rolled his eyes, swatted her hands away and kissed her with as much passion as he could muster, he knew that Molly wouldn't be able to resist him now. He was right of course and their kiss quickly grew heated as their tongues explored each other's mouths and their hands explored each other's body's. Molly let out a moan as Sherlock moved his hand down to cup her breast. "Damn you Sherlock Holmes!" she muttered against his mouth.

He let out a deep chuckle to this, then picked her up, her legs wrapping around his as he carried her to the bedroom…

 **Wow this chapter was much longer than expected! I know that I keep dragging out the smut but I wanted there to be a bit of a lead up to when they finally do it; I promise that they will in the next chapter** **. I know that there is a lot in this story that is very un-Sherlock-like but I've tried to stay to his character as best as I can. Thank you for following, reviews are appreciated! X**


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